Elmyra's Sister
by Shizune-hime
Summary: The idea of 'estrangement' never appealed to Aerith... hence a special idea for a floral delivery comes to the ethereal flower merchant. Possible OC presented here, and of course Aerith Gainsborough.


Had she been told of a certain soul's existence, she would have tried to erase the marks of distance and time…and if not so, then mended the stitch confidently ripped away from a once-pressed hem.

Elmyra had a sister—a boisterous one, her laughter ringing the halls of their home, her joy serving as light to her friends and her darkness walls of solace, in her own brokenness. She'd been paralyzed from the waist down because of an accident at least quarter of half a century ago, and being much older than Elmyra it certainly didn't help that she would be berated for that fact.

Aerith never really knew her or grew close to her; she was more of a hermit in terms of relating with certain people in her life, Elmyra included. She chose to mingle with friends rather than establish close ties with her own cousin, both being solo children of their own respective parents. Perhaps it was the effect of living in the slums: the venue called for such ideals that weren't up to par with those above the Plate, or perhaps elsewhere. Living conditions certainly affected a state of mind, and for this, Aerith had enough compassion to truly extend her kindness. After all—helping each other was a motto she'd deemed righteous.

…The makeshift fireplace was warm and cozy for her—Aerith watched from her safe distance how she would twist and lift her nimble digits in an effort to continue her started knitting. Living in a rented apartment with a caretaker provided by the WRO seemed to be suitable for her; living among rubble wasn't fitting in its entirety as a shed. Aerith had always pondered approaching her, but considering her attitude, and how she'd observed the woman, she didn't seem too…likely to be attending to guests. She personally made her circle comprised of old souls from Midgar.

Was she herself an old soul?… Aerith liked to think so. She figured the woman knew of Elmyra's daughter.

…No blooms sold today. She reserved her entire wicker basket for the woman. Coming up to her doorstep, she knocked gently. In a matter of minutes, the home nurse came to answer. The Cetra simply implied that the delivery was for the resident, and that she wanted to give the basket personally. The wheelchair-equipped elder came strolling to the door, brows knitted as she looked a bit disappointed. Perhaps it was with age, Aerith thought, that one such as her would be a bit reluctant to expect guests.

A sense of pity overcame Aerith—how could Elmyra not have retained contact with her? Was she really this dark to have been left in the lurk?

"Tch. Nice of someone like you to come by."

"It's a delivery, ma'am," the flower girl prompted, "from a very dear family member of yours." She never hinted it was Elmyra, but she hoped the woman would understand somehow that it came from the only person she'd been told when she was much younger, who cared for her despite her hasty and arrogant aura. With a smile, she held the basket with both hands and offered it to her. "She's truly hoping for your reconnection."

…She sniffed the flowers, setting the basket onto her lap as she blinked. Flowers were a very rare thing in Midgar, save for, of course, the recent slew of shops along the sidewalk. With this, she peered up into Aerith's emeralds and tilted her head just slightly.

"…Thank you." Eyeing the flowers, she felt a surge of warmth and consolation. "..If you ever come to her again, please tell her Laura says hello and thank you."

_Laura. _So that was her name. Simple, but elegant.

"It's a shame I'll never be able to walk again so I can see her and her daughter. She must be so pretty now."

"I'm sure they're both doing quite well, Miss Laura. I'll send your regards though, when I do cross paths with her again or she has more flowers delivered…"

"I would love that."

The mask of toughness melted as she gave a warm gaze at the flowers. "…Would you like to stay for a while? I could prepare you a meal and some tea."

The Cetra, satisfied with her simple act, shook her head and laughed softly. "It's alright. I'll need to be on my way now; there are some errands I need to do in fact.

"You're a sweetheart, dear; this was very nice of you to go out of your way. I'll need to pay you, though—"

"No, it's really alright…"

"Oh, but.. are you sure?"

"Mhm." She strode to the door. "…Well… goodbye then, Miss Laura. It was nice meeting you today."

"Take care, dear. Ah, I didn't quite catch your name!"

"I don't think it's important to know, ma'am." Aerith gave a slight grin. "I'm just a simple flower girl."

It was, perhaps, safe to say that her mission was accomplished. Not before one last gesture did Aerith show her courtesy as she left: a smile.


End file.
